Outting
by ashestoashesanddusttodust
Summary: Dorian's dealt with a fair number of people coming out, and perhaps takes the supportive role a tad too seriously but this time it's purely out of self-defense that he decides to hit the bars hard. Really, it is. Cullen x Dorian


**Outting  
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**Notes:** Request for Dorian being the supportive friend taking Cullen out and doing his damnedest to hook him up with strangers while being oblivious to the massive crush Cullen has on him.

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Dorian's known, for as long as he can recall, that he was gay. He's never lied to himself about that aspect of himself. To his family and acquaintances? Of course! Who doesn't lie to their parents about sex? Though Dorian hadn't expected that he'd _have_ a damn good reason to lie until he overheard them discussing conversion camps and had actually taken the time to look up what that meant.

Amazing how much the threat of brainwashing could straighten a gay boy up. At least until Dorian could legally declare himself an adult and run the fuck away.

His _wonderful_ familial experiences aside, Dorian's never doubted his own inclinations. In the time since he's been on his own he's had the chance to meet a good number of people who weren't always that lucky. He's helped those he could and watched far too many good men and women suffer when he couldn't. Which isn't the point of the night, and he turns his thoughts away from that depressing thought before he ends up in a very black mood.

The _point_ is that Dorian has some experience in dealing with awkward coming outs. Dreadful ones, unremarkable ones, and everything in between. So, when his former college roommate, Cullen "Put a _fucking_ shirt on" Rutherford, mumbles his way out of the closet in an all too endearing way Dorian is practiced enough in the proper response to go on automatic. A blessing really because his mind is still reeling five hours and three bars later at the revelation.

Cullen "For the love of God _don't_ sleep naked" Rutherford is gay. Or at least bi. Dorian's still not too clear on which. He hadn't listened much past the moment when every dirty little fantasy he's had about the man over the years gained wings at the slim chance of being able to come true. The fluttering of it all was distracting until Dorian dragged them out to his favorite bars to drown every last one of them. In as much piss poor alcohol he can stand while still remaining sober enough to steer Cullen away from the worst choices in the bars.

His goal is relatively simple. Get Cullen "I'll only say this _once_ in my life, get the larger pants" Rutherford laid and a boyfriend. The order doesn't matter so long as he's taken off the market before Dorian does something remarkably stupid and ruin a rather solid friendship. Though Cullen "Fuck. Me. _Please_." Rutherford isn't making that easy.

As usual.

"I don't need another drink," Cullen says, still holding a cup that's full. Instead of doing the sensible thing and finishing it he pushes the new drink to the edge of the table. "And neither do you."

Cullen's looking around furtively but with a more relaxed air than before. The deer in the headlights look had brought too much attention in Dorian's first choice of bar. He'd had to drag the man away from a sea of groping, grabby hands before he drowned. The second bar had not been much better. This one is not normally on Dorian's party map to getting laid, but the atmosphere is more relaxed and the other man is obviously responding to it better

"Don't speak nonsense," Dorian pulls the drink back to the center of the table to keep an eye on it. Just because the bar is tamer doesn't mean he should let himself be stupidly relaxed about their safety. "We _all_ need another drink."

Especially Cullen. There's a low, pervasive interest in the man that hasn't abated despite turning down two dances and several drinks. He's cutting down each attempt to hit on him with a single glance now. Impressive, but frustrating given Dorian's goal.

"Fine but you're not driving us back," Cullen says with a heavy frown as he holds a hand out, fingers curled and insistent until Dorian slaps the keys in them.

"That's what they invented cabs for," Dorian slams back his drink, and steals the one that was supposed to help loosen Cullen up. Much to his obvious displeasure. Good. Maybe that will teach the great big lug to drink faster. "I'm neither dumb enough nor suicidal enough to try driving myself."

"Anymore," Cullen may or may not mutter under his breath as he passes a totally disinterested look over the bar. One of the downfalls of having known the man since college is his nearly endless supply of blackmail of Dorian's extremely late brush with teenage brashness and stupidity.

"Now," Dorian takes a long drink of what turns out to be straight up vodka. He's far enough gone that it doesn't burn much and the burn that is there makes it easy to pass a critical eye through the bar. Weighing the options as it were even as he tries not to think about the details of what he's weighing them for. "Stop being picky and give me something to work with here."

"I'm not being-" Cullen stops with a soft growl that Dorian drowns with more vodka. The man rubs wearily at his temple and looks down with such a tortured look that Dorian can _feel_ the maternal and less than paternal instincts of the whole block stirring. "Look, I don't want a one night stand, Dorian."

No, he wants a "friend" or whatever that means. Which is too bad because the friend slot is filled by Dorian himself and while he's willing to suck up watching Cullen date another man he will straight up murder anyone trying to take his place.

"Yes, yes," Dorian says anyway because there's some things that don't need to be said. "But surely you must have so-"

"There you are!" A bright, way too chipper voice cuts him off and Dorian watches -nonplussed- as Dagna hauls herself up into one of the spare chairs. Unphased that she has to climb up onto the fancy stool. She grins at Cullen but speaks just past him. "Get me something fruity. Or, no! Sour. I want something sour."

"Appletini," Cassandra says dutifully before hauling Cullen out of his seat with one hand. "I got your text. Come help."

Dorian watches in bemusement as the crowd -light as it is- parts under her determination and no doubt murderous looking glare.

"Ok, so before they get back we need to talk," Dagna turns on him. Her smile vanishing with a suddenness that's worrying. "I know you don't know this, and that we all let it go because it was kind of cute but it's not cute anymore. I'm not mad at you or anything. It's all of our faults for letting it go on for so long without pushing. But Cullen is incredibly, stupidly in love with you. Ok? It's fine if you're not interested or anything, but if there's no chance for him at all you need to tell him right now. Because he's been texting Cassandra all night and bar hopping to get him laid is a nice thought, but kind of a dick move when he's been trying to tell you he only wants to date you all night. It's just going to end badly for everyone if we don't sort this all out quickly. Right?"

"What?" Dorian asks after the moment of stunned silence that followed the several moments he took to sort through that torrent of words. He's stunned from the rapid fire words and the one sentence he could _not_ have heard right.

"Well if you don't pick that big, sad puppy of a man up someone else eventually will, and I've heard his taste is terrible. He'll probably pick a real creeper of a guy. So-"

"No, no! Not that!" Dorian's starting to regret the drinks now. His tongue is too heavy to form the words he wants to say quickly enough. "Cullen is not in- _that_ with me! He's not."

"Oh Dory," Dagna reaches over to pay his cheek patronizingly. "That man's been _gone_ for you for as long as I've known you two. He's just been incredibly Cullen Rutherford about the whole thing."

Dagna isn't one for cruel pranks. Exploding books and chemically altered shampoos that change hair and skin colors? Yes, but playing with emotions is not her. She's also very likely telling the truth. Her ability to cut through bullshit and hit the heart of the matter is only rivaled by Varric and Bull.

"What?" Dorian hears himself repeating dumbly.

Dagna grins and _giggles_ at him. "You heard me. Now rearrange your worldview quickly. They're coming back with our drinks."

_Cassandra_ is coming back with drinks. Two fancy looking things in colors that can't be found in nature. Cullen is coming back with two water bottles and the stubborn look he gets when he's ready to argue a point with someone. Normally Dorian would oblige him, because he is nowhere near his limits and doesn't need to be cut off.

_Normally_ Dorian doesn't have a burning need to be completely sober to understand this new tilt given to the world though.

His easy acceptance and immediate downing of the water gets a snort from Cassandra and suspicion from Cullen. The water is bland going down and he really could use some food to help sop up the alcohol in his stomach. Maybe even a few hours to sleep and some more time to reflect as well. Or maybe years would be better.

No, Dorian is never going to be sober enough for this. He smiles charmingly at the women and stands. "Lovely as it is to see you both, I think I really should be heading home right now."

"Of course," Cassandra nods benevolently at him as Dagna just laughs. Nothing in her expression gives away her thoughts ill or otherwise, but Dorian doesn't doubt he's on her shit list right now. "We will see you this weekend, yes?"

"Wouldn't miss that card game for the world," or the bet settlement if he knows his friends right. He nods back at her and turns. Snagging Cullen's arm on the way and dragging him out. The man follows slowly. Confusion lacing his voice as he says his goodbyes. It only grows when they hit the street.

"Dorian what's wrong?" His hand is warm against Dorian's shoulder. "Did Dagna say something?"

There's a trace of outrage in the worry now that warms the heart. The mild fluttering from before is back with a vengeance. Dorian can hardly hear his own thoughts over the hammering of it. Which is fine as his thoughts are just an endless looping of Dagna's words. He doesn't have an answer for Cullen because he's really not alright and it was something Dagna said. Nothing exactly bad about either thing though. Dorian's not really sure what it is but as Cullen edges closer to him Dorian knows he's going to do that incredibly stupid thing regardless.

"Dorian?" Cullen questions when he pulls them into the dark, recessed entrance of a closed store. Cullen doesn't pull away when they end up far too close and there's enough light for Dorian to see the sharpness of the eyes locked on him. The tilt of a head and the angle of Cullen's body. In, towards Dorian, and he's hit on people with less responsive body language successfully before. He should not be this nervous.

"I like to think I'm an intelligent man," Dorian pulls and pushes so they're not even taking up half of the small space. Cullen moves easily for him and doesn't flinch at all. "But even the most intelligent man can't pull answers out of thin air. He needs facts to be presented to him before drawing a conclusion."

"Is that what Dagna was saying?" Realization comes easy to Cullen and his lips curl up into small and relieved looking smile. "I didn't think I was being very subtle, Dorian."

"Not to our friends apparently," Dorian isn't moving them anymore but Cullen is. He finds himself backed up against the locked door. Cullen a wall of heat along his front. Only one hand is actually touching him. Spread wide against his side and slightly easing up the edge of his shirt. "But I am not them. Where I come from we actually use words to express things. Not looks or whatever else it was you think wasn't a being subtle."

"I guess we're not smart men then," Cullen says. Voice low and they're close enough now that each exhalation is like a kiss. Dorian surprises himself with the strength of his wanting those kisses and the almost reflexive nervousness that wants to send him running. Opposite forces that hold him still instead.

"Yes," Dorian agrees and begs but Cullen doesn't move either.

The same nervousness reflects in his eyes as he licks his scarred lips. "Can I-?"

"_Yes_," Dorian repeats firmly.

It's the chastest kiss he's ever had but the relief that bursts through him destroys an anxiety he hadn't realized was plaguing him all night. Cullen pulls back slightly all too soon and licks his lips again. Too close still and Dorian takes advantage to press back in. Sucking on the man's tongue until he's groaning and trying to shove Dorian through the door with his entire body. Making Dorian forget where they are until the headlights of a passing car light them up.

Dorian's head hits the door with a thud and he's cursing lowly as he tries to gather his scattered brain back up. Cullen _laughs_.

"Shut up," he says with little heat because Cullen has both hands up under his shirt. Calloused hands flat and distracting on his back. "Getting arrested for public indecency is the worst way to end the night."

"That's what cars are for, right?" Cullen says cheeky as shit and smirking even as he refuses to step away from Dorian. His hair is mussed from fingers Dorian really doesn't recall raking through the gelled mass, and his voice is definitely on the husky side.

Dorian imagines letting Cullen press him down into the back of his car for a long second. It's a lovely image that dies as soon as he imagines either of them getting their legs situated back there.

"Bed," Dorian says firmly and pushes the tempting man away far enough to slide back onto the street. His steps quick and determined because if they don't get to someone's home soon the back seat will have to do. "Neither of us are teenagers and my back is not as forgiving as it used to be."

"Not from what I've heard," Cullen mutters as he follows behind him. Smug and crude like the little shit Dorian knows him to be, but he ignores the comment for the sake of his sanity.

If they make it to Cullen's place it'll be the perfect end to what he'd thought was shaping up to be a pretty shitty night. If they don't make it that far...

Cullen's arm is like a band of heat as it wraps around him. Low and pulling him into Cullen's side. "We don't have to be _in_ the car, do we?"

_Maker_, Dorian trips a little and Cullen easily catches him and carries him through finding his feet again. It's the perfect end either way really.

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End file.
